


Midnight Snack

by HiddenTreasures



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenTreasures/pseuds/HiddenTreasures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is sleepwalking, a banana, and affirmations of forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for TimePetalsPrompts Ficlet Friday prompt "What happens when Rose goes sleepwalking? They’re not on the TARDIS."

The Doctor was restless. He shifted around on the sofa, trying to get comfortable, but that was appearing to be more of an impossibility as the night wore on. The sofa was too short to accommodate his six-foot frame. He’d balled himself up, swung his legs over the armrest, and even tried to sleep sitting up. But the only thing he’d accomplished was a crick in his neck and a tangle of sheets.

Rose had reluctantly gone to bed several hours earlier, at his bidding. She looked exhausted, as though she hadn’t slept well in weeks, and he demanded she go and get some sleep. She was embarrassed about letting him sleep on the sofa, and assured him she’d have a bed delivered the next day for him. Although he assured her it was fine, he desperately wished he could curl up next to her. Not for comfort, at least not physical; no, he wanted the emotional reassurance that she was real, and he was real, and that they were both in the same universe as each other.

But she didn’t look quite ready for that, and he was okay with that. Well, not _okay_ , exactly, but he didn’t want to pressure her. She was already being so accommodating and patient and accepting of him that he dared not ask for more.

The Doctor flopped back on his makeshift bed with a sigh, pulling his knees up and sticking his heels near his bum. His eyes, burning from exhaustion, wandered around her sitting room restlessly. Over her years here, she’d accumulated several knick-knacks and photos of her life here. He greedily took in everything he could, desperate to glean information from her life apart from him.

As he was scanning a photograph of her and a young red-haired boy (little Tony, he assumed), he heard the door to Rose’s bedroom open. He perked up, pulling himself up to glance down the hallway. In the darkness, he saw a slender form making its way towards the kitchen: Rose.

He leapt from the sofa, both excited that she’d left her room, and confused as to why she’d left her room. He watched her silently as she sluggishly made her way to the kitchen and began rooting around in her cabinets.

“Rose?”

Rose ignored him, and the Doctor’s heartrate increased slightly in anxiety. Was she purposefully ignoring him? Did she forget he was here? Was she being possessed by an unknown entity?

The Doctor tentatively reached out and touched her shoulder, calling her name once more.

Rose spun around slowly. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, which did nothing to settle the Doctor’s nerves. His fingers dug into the skin of her bicep, willing her to see him.

“Rose, please, what’s wrong?”

Her head cocked slowly to the side as she continued staring at him. Her eyes seemed to stare right through him, which gave him chills.

“Doctor?”

His heart thudded in relief, but she still looked dazed.

Finally, his intuition flared: sleepwalking. Rose was sleepwalking. He’d known it was rather common among humans, but he hadn’t known Rose sleepwalked. He’d never witnessed it when she was aboard the TARDIS.

The Doctor gently brushed the hair from her eyes, relieved that nothing more serious was happening to Rose. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her so soon after finding her again.

His fingers gently traced her face as he asked, “What are you doing Rose?”

He waited with bated breath, not knowing if she would answer. He knew many sleepwalkers weren’t lucid enough to answer any questions put forth to them.

But Rose’s eyes moved to his face. Her speech was slightly slurred as she mumbled, “Lookin’ for somethin’.”

The Doctor smiled. Now that he knew she wasn’t in any danger, he found this situation quite comical. Sleepy Rose had always been endearing to him, and this Rose was no different.

“What are you looking for?” he asked patiently.

“Bananas.”

The Doctor laughed aloud. Of all things…

“Why are you looking for bananas, Rose?”

She turned away from him and began rooting through her cabinets again, her search turning up nothing. The Doctor glanced to a basket on the counter by the fridge, and was pleased to see a ripe bunch of the very fruit Rose was looking for. He left her side for a moment to grab a fruit from the bunch. He returned to her and offered her the banana.

“I’ve found your banana, Rose,” he said solemnly as Rose took the banana from him. “There. Want to go back to bed now?”

Rose’s head shook side to side slowly.

“Hafta find the Doctor,” she said insistently, her fingers carefully tracing over the yellow peel. “Doctor likes banana. I found the Doctor. Gotta have bananas for ‘im. Else he might not stay.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He settled for stroking her cheek gently as he murmured, “Yes, you did find the Doctor. Well done, you brilliant, beautiful girl. Now that he’s here, nothing will make him leave. Ever. Not even a lack of bananas. Now, let’s get you back to bed. You look like you could use a few more hours.”

Rose thankfully acquiesced as the Doctor placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her back to her room. He intended to tuck her in and go back to his own bed, but those plans went to hell when he stubbed his little toe against her doorframe.

Several very loud and colorful expletives left his lips as a sharp, stinging pain zinged through his toe. He lifted it up to massage it, still swearing under his breath.

“Doctor?”

Rose was completely lucid now, and was staring at him in shock and confusion, the banana forgotten on the floor beside the bed.

She flicked a lamp on, and the room was flooded in a gentle, yellow light.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Her eyes zeroed in on his still-throbbing toe, which was bright red. “What the hell happened? Are you alright?”

Rose guided him to the edge of her bed and pushed him down to sit on it. She knelt in front of him, examining his toe up close. Her fingers traced over his foot gently, sending shivers up his spine. When she was satisfied with her inspection, she set his foot back on the floor.

“Seems okay,” she said. “Want to tell me what happened?”

The Doctor smiled sheepishly and tugged on his ear as he said in a rush, “Well, you see, I was lying in bed, minding my own business, when you suddenly appeared. Did you know you sleepwalked, Rose Tyler? Because you do. And you were rather insistent about finding a banana. So I helped you find one, and was going to put you to bed, when your door attacked my poor little toe.”

Rose was sporting a full-blown grin by this point.

“My door attacked you, eh?” she teased, smiling at him with her tongue between her teeth.

God, how he’d missed that smile. He vowed to make her smile like that every day of their forever.

“Yep,” the Doctor said, nodding vigorously. “It was an unprovoked attack. I was trying to be chivalrous and get you back to bed, and what do I get for my efforts? A broken toe!”

Rose snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Quit whining, s’not broken,” she said lightly. “Blimey, you’re worse than Tony.”

The Doctor pouted for a moment, until the air around them seemed awkward and thick with tension.

He cleared his throat and made to stand up. He scraped his hand against the back of his neck, his eyes darting around her bedroom. It wasn’t the pink he expected, but a deep, royal blue. It suited her.

“Right, well, seeing as you no longer need my help, I’ll just be going,” he said, rushing for the door, careful to watch the placement of his foot and the doorjamb. “Night, Rose.”

He was halfway down the hallway when he heard Rose call for him. He spun around eagerly. She was standing inside her doorway, wringing her hands uncomfortably in front of her.

“That couch isn’t the comfiest to sleep on,” she began, avoiding his gaze. “And I’ve got a nice, large bed in here. We could, I dunno, share? If you want.”

A wide grin split the Doctor’s face in two as he walked back to her.

“Oh, yes, Rose Tyler,” he said, his voice huskier than he had meant it to be. “I want.”

Rose looked up at him and smiled tentatively.

“Yeah?” she asked.

The Doctor laced his fingers through hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. Rose smiled brightly at him. He couldn’t help but scoop her up into his arms in a crushing embrace, which she enthusiastically returned, burying her nose into his shoulder. His heart soared at the familiar sensation, and he couldn’t help but swing her side to side.

Once he set her back on her feet, she took his hand and led him into her room. She crawled into the left half of the bed and pulled down the covers on his half.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said softly, picking at an invisible thread on the sheet.

“Me, too,” he assured her warmly.

“Guess I won’t need to order that bed for you after all?”

She phrased it as a question, still leaving him the option of refusing.

“Quite right,” he said cheerfully. “Got a nice bed right here. Besides, a new one wouldn’t have you in it.”

He knew that was a bit over-the-top, but she smiled so brightly he couldn’t bring himself to care how soppy he was getting.

The Doctor moved to crawl into bed next to her, but as he took a step towards the bed, something cold and firm squished under his foot. Leaping back reflexively with the most unbecoming squeak, he looked down to see a crushed banana oozing out onto her floor. He was dimly aware of Rose’s giggles as he muttered several more expletives, and moved to find a towel to clean the mess.


End file.
